That Place Between Sleep & Awake
by Vivi Dahlin
Summary: Follow-up to the Charmings' rescue of Regina in "Second Star to the Right." One shot.


**Rating:** T (tw: ECT/torture)  
**Pairing:** Evil Charming(s)  
**Summary:** The Charmings rescue Regina from Greg's gurney o'doom.  
**Author's Note:** Basically this came about because I keysmashed some Tumblr tags about wishing there had been a scene showing how David & Mary Margaret got Regina back to the loft in "Second Star to the Right" (not to mention how Snow got her into the woods after saving her in "The Evil Queen"). My headcanon: David carried her the entire way. Also, it bugged me that the show didn't go a little more in depth with the negative effects of ECT—especially the poorly administered kind (FUCK YOU GREG). It was only supposed to be a drabble, but 1.5+k plus words later, well... this happened.

* * *

_Maybe we should just leave you here for, oh say, the next 28 years or so_. David gazed stonily down at the immobilized woman on the gurney, her wrists and ankles bound by thick, clinical-looking straps that pinched at the skin underneath, despite a protective layer of padding. He had no memories of lying comatose in a hospital bed for almost the same length of time he had been alive prior to it—gods, he was an old man by Enchanted Forest standards!—but it infuriated him to think of all those wasted years…

Years he could have spent alongside his wife and child. Years to watch his beautiful young bride reign with a grace and benevolence that would surely be remembered throughout the ages, as much as her lovely face. Years to protect and nurture the fair-haired little girl he had dreamed of teaching to ride horseback and skim stones, who would hear tales of her grandmother's bravery and never question what it meant to be loved.

All of that had been ripped away from him by the same two hands that now hung limp and useless at Regina's sides—the hands of a killer. They looked harmless enough, but even dead rattlesnakes were capable of striking an unsuspecting victim who reached for them too soon postmortem. These were the hands that had presented Snow with a cursed apple and an ultimatum; had plunged a dagger into her gut as thanks for her royal pardon; had threatened to choke the life out of not only him but his daughter as well. With a mere flick they had ordered the destruction of entire villages and ruined countless lives.

_If there is any justice in _this_ world_, David thought, scowling at the emerald that winked at him from Regina's right ring finger, _you will never get out of those restraints_. _In fact, justice would be my hand finding its way to that big button over there, nice and red just like poisonous fruit. I bet it's got just enough juice left to stop you in your tracks, Madam Mayor. Or at least fry your memory, since you're so fond of doing that to everyone—_

"David. Help me."

Mary Margaret's clipped tone broke into his murderous train of thought, and he blinked stupidly, looking up to find flashing hazel eyes fixated upon him from across the gurney. After a brief wordless exchange, from which Mary Margaret emerged the clear victor (of what, David wasn't quite certain), they worked together in silence to free their oldest and deadliest foe.

"If it wasn't for her, we wouldn't have Henry," Mary Margaret said softly, almost speaking to herself, as she brushed a lock of hair from Regina's forehead. Her fingertips lingered near the unconscious woman's cheekbone, ghosting along the delicate curve with a stroke so tentative that a casual observer might have mistaken it for reverence. Love, even. She peeled back the electrodes on Regina's temples with equal care, the way David had once seen her handle a baby sparrow fallen from its nest, and drew a sharp breath.

Circular patches of inflamed skin, roughly the size of the antique coins Gold kept locked away under glass countertop in his pawn shop, bloomed on either side of Regina's head. David half expected to see smoke wafting from the scorch marks. His stomach turned in spite of himself. He glanced away, pretending to have trouble freeing the woman's wrists. When he did manage to liberate one, a perfect impression of the carelessly tightened cuff remained, chafed and glowing an angry shade of pink. The image of his wife's fingers locked into white-knuckled fists, grinding at her own thighs but finding no purchase, returned to him unbidden. Her harsh screams, so deep and guttural they might have been coming from some netherworld, echoed in his ears.

David cupped his palm under Regina's elbow and let her hand rest against the flat of the other, her fingers slipping into the spaces between his own, the spaces usually reserved for Mary Margaret. He kept his eyes on the latter as she hurried to undo the belt that encircled Regina's torso, positioned snugly beneath both breasts. Nudging the loosened strap aside, he draped Regina's arm awkwardly across her stomach. Mary Margaret rescued him by freeing the opposite limb, her expression pained and taut as she worked. Her tongue clucked in disapproval when she removed the clip on the woman's forefinger, revealing a nasty burn in the sensitive crevices surrounding nail and cuticle. At first, David thought it was blood and he cast a grim eye over the figure below him, wondering what other unpleasant surprises were yet to be found.

"Careful," Mary Margaret warned right on cue.

David froze in place, arms crooked behind Regina's back and under her knees, preparing to scoop her off the inflexible cot once the final ankle restraint came unbuckled. He quirked an expectant eyebrow.

"She might have broken something. I doubt they bothered with anesthetic or muscle relaxants. And her screams… all that pain…" Mary Margaret fretted her bottom lip, dark shadows playing on pallid features. She looked exhausted and about twice the age she had been no more than an hour ago. Her whole body had begun to tremble. "Just be careful."

"You okay?" David asked, afraid he was about to have two swooning women on his hands.

"I'm fine." Mary Margaret waved off his concern and rounded the gurney, helping to ease Regina's head onto his shoulder and situate the skirt that had crept up her thighs.

Under different circumstances, his wife's anxious face peering up at him like that would have made him chuckle. How soon she forgot he had been a shepherd in his youth, often carrying loads much heavier and squirmier than this one, sometimes for miles on end. Not to mention the dragon slaying and various and sundry heroics. According to that book of Henry's, he had gallantry coming out of his ears and no day was complete without rescuing at least one damsel in distress.

(Whom had he last cradled like this? Hadn't it been newborn Emma, looking like a little lamb herself swaddled in that fleecy white blanket? A lamb about to be slaughtered by wolves in the guise of guards. And that pack of wolf-guards belonged to none other than Regina Mills…)

David pushed the thoughts from his mind as Regina began to stir in his arms, her lips parting in a feeble groan. Her closed eyes rolled freely in their sockets, reminding David of the pen Ruby used at the diner, a plastic frog attached to one end, its oversized eyeballs rotating every which way as she scribbled down orders. When Regina finally did pry her lids apart, only the whites were visible, giving her a ghoulish appearance. For a moment, she looked quite dead. To David's surprise, he was not relieved.

"Hey," he said in the gentlest voice he had probably ever used on Regina. Maybe one of the gentlest voices anyone had ever used on her, he realized, surprising himself again. "Hey. You hang in there, you hear me?"

A pair of bleary brown irises slid into view a little at a time, but seemed to have trouble finding David's face mere inches away. Regina's tongue worked inside her mouth, trying in vain to produce words. She pouted her lower lip in childlike frustration, chest still heaving from the effort to speak. But she was nothing if not a fighter. Sounding as gruff as Leroy after a week in the mines and a weekend at The Rabbit Hole, Regina muttered something unintelligible. Then, clear and unmistakable:

"Da-… Daniel?"

David's instincts were to correct her—he'd had more than his share of pretending to be someone else in this lifetime, and the last—but Mary Margaret grabbed his arm and squeezed as he started to shake his head. One glimpse of her wide, tearful eyes was all it took. He had seen Regina moments after her last encounter with Daniel, lost and broken as a person can be, even Henry's presence of no comfort to her. No sense putting her through that right now, especially in this weakened state. Let her believe whatever she wanted for a little while longer.

"I'm here," he murmured. "You're safe now. I've got you."

"Hurts." Regina grimaced as she tried to lift her head, failed, and slumped against David in defeat. Her body curled in on itself, knees drawn upwards, head tucked underneath his chin. Her hands nestled into the folds of his vest and clung to the warmth she found there. "Hurt… me."

A lump rose in David's throat, so thick and shameful he wondered if Mary Margaret would notice it bulging in his neck. Some Prince Charming. Minutes ago he was plotting an injured woman's death, a woman whom he had threatened and manhandled on numerous occasions, whether she deserved it or not. He swallowed hard several times and protectively tightened his grip on Regina. "I know," he said, holding his wife's gaze as he spoke. "But no one's gonna hurt you anymore, I won't let them."

Regina gave a small sigh and nuzzled at his chest. Within seconds she was out again.

"Thank you," Mary Margaret mouthed to David, tears spilling down both cheeks.

"C'mon." David leaned over and dropped a kiss into her hair. "Let's get you girls home."


End file.
